


Plain and Simple

by BeOkay



Category: The Outsiders - Fandom
Genre: 'Nough Said, Hoods, Leather Jackets, Rumble - Freeform, Tuffness, Two-Bit's Brother, Two-Bit's Father, brother bonding, jumping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeOkay/pseuds/BeOkay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two-bit knows he is a hood, no matter what Pony likes to think. He's just no good, plain and simple. Even his mother had said that. But when he has the chance to meet the brother he never had, will he take it? Or will he always be a hood, plain and simple?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there and welcome to my first story on this site! I had originally posted this story on Fanfiction.net but I didn't get very far before I got this nasty little thing called writers block. And alas, by the time I got back into my story I had forgotten my password for ff.net.
> 
> This story was inspired by the episode in the Outsiders tv series titles "Maybe Baby". 
> 
> As this story is told from Two-Bit's POV you will probably notice some grammar mistakes, however I put them there intentionally, to me it's all a part of Two-Bit's voice. 
> 
> Well this is starting to drag on so here's a quick disclaimer:
> 
> I don't own the Outsiders, nor am I making money off of this.
> 
> And now onto the story!

"Tell Michael I'm sorry I jumped it, anyone who likes Sour Onion can't be all wrong."

"Well maybe you could come by the house some time, tell him yourself."

"Yeah, maybe."

It had been two months since I had that conversation with my father, the man who had left me, Ma and my kid sister Sarah when I was two. The man I had hated with a passion for sixteen years. The man, the alcoholic, I was so afraid of becoming. 

The man who had turned his life around, gotten married and had a son, Michael, my brother.

All this time, all these years that I have had to be the man of the house, that my mom has had to work two jobs just to keep us fed. All these years that we have struggled and he has lived only a few towns away, worked a nice steady job in his nice comfortable office, his family has lived in a big beautiful house, and his son, Michael, my brother, when to a big fancy school.

Not once has he came to check on us, not once has he sent us any money. 

I thought he was long gone, in some other state, maybe even dead for all I knew. 

You can imagine my surprise when I'm walking down the streets of Long Ridge and there he is. 

After a series of interesting events, including me slashing his tires and us eating chili burgers in his fancy smancy office, I got to know the new Carroll Matthews, he's not so bad, though I still haven't quite forgiven him for what he did to us. 

I never did take him up on his offer to stop by and meet Michael. I've thought about it a few times but the bus fair is a killer and Steve and Soda are still trying to figure out what's wrong with my car.

But today was different. I was board, extremely board really. The gang, or what's left of us after... after Johnny and Dally died, had all been busy. Darry was working his tail off, as usual, Ponyboy was at school, and the DX was so busy the Steve and Soda didn't have any time to goof off.

I happened to have a few bucks to spare, thanks to Tim having no luck whatsoever in a card game last nigh. Okay, that may have be due to a little slight of hand on my part also, but what he don't know won't kill him, and if he did know he would probably kill me, so it's all fair and square really! 

So anyways, I had a few bucks burning a hole in my pocket and while I was walking around looking for some place to spend it -don't look at me like that, I don't always steal whatever it is I want- I just so happened to catch sight of a bus headed to Long Ridge. So I took the bus.

But when I stepped off that bus, it was like I had walked right into a brick wall. I started thinking, what if he didn't like me? What if he's a stuck up Soc? 

I figured the best way to handle this was to get me some liquid courage.

So I did. I walked myself right down to the liquor store and got some old bum to buy me a six pack so long as I gave him a bottle in return and forked over a buck or two. Then I took my five bottles of beer into an alley and drank them one by one.

Or at least I tried. I only got three down when they jumped me.

They were hoods just like me. Pony likes to think I'm just a regular greaser like the rest of the gang, that Dally and the Shepherds were the only hoods he really knew. But truth is, I'm a hood too.

I'm just no good, plain and simple. That's what Ma said when Tim Shepherd brought me back home after he bailed me outta jail for slashing Carroll's tires. 

Oh I know she didn't really mean it, I know she loves me. But it still hurt, you know?

Anyway, back to my story.

There I was, setting in that alley, minding my own business, just finishing my third bottle of beer when up walks this gang of hoods.

I shoulda known better then to put myself in a place I could be easily corralled, Darry would say I wasn't using my head, the end of the alley was fenced in by a chain link fence.

They walked slowly and casually down the open end of the alley, there where six of them, all dressed in leather jackets with so much grease in their hair it was practically dripping off, properly blocking my only exit.

I stood slowly, snapping the collar of my leather jacket up so I looked more tuff. I pulled my switchblade out of my back pocket, holding it low and close to my waist as I flipped it open, glaring at them intimidatingly. If I could convince them I wouldn't be an easy target maybe they would decide to let me be.

I might not be Dallas Winston, but I can be pretty intimidating when I set my mind to it. 

But alas, they slowly advanced toward me, flicking out their own switchblades.

Not gonna lie here, I was staring to get a might worried. I mean, here I am in some back water town, no one knows I'm here, and I'm fixing to get jumped by six hoods. I'm a pretty good fighter, but there's no way I can hold off all six of these guys.

"Well, well, well. Lookie what we got here boys. It's Micky Mouse." It was the one in the middle speaking, obviously their leader.

I didn't bother glancing down, I knew I was wearing one of my Micky shirts. It's not my fault Micky is awesome! Some punks just don't get it. Though, had I known I would be trying to intimidate my way out of a fight I would have probably picked a different shirt, or at least zipped up my jacket. Oh well. 

"What do you want?" I asked in a low, mincing voice.

The leader chuckled darkly before answering, "your not from around here are ya." It was more of a statement rather then a question.

I continued to glare coldly at him.

"Well if you don't wanna be friendly there's nothing we can do about that, is there boys?" A choirs of no's and nope's came from the five other hoods.

"No-siry-bob, nothing we can do bout that. 'Cept teach this punk a lesson, show him boys." The leader motioned.

And with that, the five others started in on me.

I figured this would be my only chance at escape, so quick as a flash I turned and ran for the fence, taking a running leap and latching onto it for dear life, my cheep pair of chuck knockoffs quickly finding a perch. I climbed as fast as I could and was almost to the top when something, or rather someone, grabbed my foot and yanked me down.

My switchblade flew out of my hand when I landed hard on my back, the breath knocked out of me and the edges of my vision fading black. But I had to get up, I knew that if I stayed down it would the end for me. 

I was quickly back on my feet and started swinging my fists, connecting with the jaw of the guy who had pulled me down. He was down and out like a light as I turned to my next attacker.

I slammed my fist into his stomach and hit him upside the head on his temple as he doubled over. I continued swinging madly as the other four hoods over powered me. And though I fought my best to keep them off me, someone landed a lucky blow that hit me smack on the jaw and I crumpled to my knees. They were on me in an instant, kicking and punching my brains out. I tried to stand back up but ended up curled into a ball on the ground as they delivered kick after kick to my back and head. To my credit, I didn't utter a sound. 

They finally must have gotten board because next thing I knew someone was turning me over and checking my pockets. I was too out of it to stop them so they emptied my pockets and cleared out.

Injury assessment time. Whoopee! You see the sarcasm there, right?

I lifted my head only to slowly easy it back down to rest on the ground with a groan as bolts of pain shot through my skull. 

After waiting for the pain to subside to a more reasonable level, I tried once more.

Gritting my teeth and squinting against the fresh pain that rippled through my whole body, I eased myself into a setting position.

I gasped for air quite painfully, as my ribs protested any movement whatsoever and gingerly eased my back against the wall and, seeing as there was no one there to hear, let out something between a groan and a whimper as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

"Hey, are you okay,"

I jumped and let out a surprised and painful yelp, much to my humiliation.

There in front of me was a boy, younger then me, maybe fifteen. For I second I thought he was one of the hoods came back to finish me off, but one look at the kid and I knew he was no hood. He wasn't even a greaser, that was easy to tell because his hair didn't have any grease in it.

"It's okay, I-I won't hurt you," the kid looked scared himself, like he expected me to jump him or something.

I snorted and smirked, but my smirk quickly turned to a grimace as my damaged ribs made their presence known once more.

"You're hurt, let me take you to the hospital," he offered.

"No, no hospitals." Hospitals give me the willies.

"Well... Well then let me take you to my house, I'm sure my mom can fix you up, she's a nurse," the kid was practically begging, why did he care so much any way? Ain't he ever seen a greaser get beat up?

"Sure kid, sure," I had to accept really, I knew I couldn't make it all the way back to the Curtis's, they probably wouldn't even let me on the bus looking like this.

"Here, let me help you up," the kid said as he stood up and offered his hand.

I studied him for a moment, took in his fluffy, ungreased, brown hair, his grey eyes, his well fed, stout build, nope, definitely not a greaser in any way. I finally accepted his hand, biting back a groan as he hauled me to my feet. I'm sure my face paled quite drastically as the ground started to buckle and the buildings around me started to duck and weave.

"It's only three blocks, do you think you can make it?" 

I groaned and gave a slight nod, glad that the ground had decided it didn't hate me any more, however things were still a little blurry.

"My knife," I said through gritted teeth as I turned toward the fence, using the wall for support. No way was I gonna leave that knife. It had taken me forever to get it back after the police had taken it off Dally, not to mention the two hours I had to wait in that store before I got it.

"What?" The kid looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

"Gotta get my knife." My voice was slurred and things were starting to bob and weave again. 

I slumped against the wall and shut my eyes tightly in hopes to stop my stomach from flip flopping. 

"I'll, I'll get it for you," the poor boy still sounded nervous.

I opened my eyes to watch him as he looked around on the ground.

"This it?" He asked as he held up my black switchblade.

I nodded, and promptly wished I hadn't as I felt my lunch coming back up. 

Grabbing hold of the chain link fence and sinking to my knees, I emptied my stomach, feeling utterly embarrassed that some kid I didn't even know was seeing me like this. It wouldn't have been as bad if it were one of the gang, they have seen me beat up or hungover, and sometimes both, plenty of times. But for it to be some literally off the street stranger? Today's just not my day, plain and simple. 

"Are, um... Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" I snapped over my shoulder after wiping my mouth, "sorry, lets just go," I said as I stood slowly and turned back toward him, swaying slightly.

"Here, let me help you," the kid said awkwardly as he stepped closer. I let him take my arm and drape it over his shoulder, he put and arm around my waist and I leaned most of my weight on him.

What was I doing? Why was I trusting him? The answer to those questions: I have no idea. But what other choice did I have?

I rolled these thoughts over in my mind, trying to block out the pain, as we slowly made our way down the sidewalk.

"Here we are," I was snapped out of my thoughts as the kid stopped us in front of a brick house with a red door.

As we continued up the walk way, I knew I wasn't the only one who could hear as I started to wheeze because the kid kept giving me worried looks. He stopped in front of the door to pull a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door an helped me in.

"Michael, is that you?" I knew that voice! That's Carroll! What's he doing here? Michael? Does that mean...

I turned to look at the boy who had been helping me with wide eyes, realizing for the first time that he never told me his name, and if his name was Michael... And Carroll was here... Does that mean that this kid is Michael, my brother Michael?

"Yeah it's me dad. Is mom home? I have a friend here who needs some help," I groaned as the kid, Michael, practically yelled in my ear.

"Sorry," he said with a small grimace.

"What was that about someone needing help?" Carroll asked worriedly as he rounded the corner to come into the living room, which is where we were standing.

"Michael who is-... Two-Bit?" Carroll stopped in his tracks, a shocked look on his face. 

"The one and only," I wheezed with a forced smile.

"Get him over to the couch, Michael," he directed as he snapped out of his shock.

Michael helped me over to the couch, "you know him?" He asked Carroll.

I groaned as I lowered myself down onto the couch.

"Yes... Michael, this is... this your bother, Keith," Carroll told his son awkwardly.

Michael looked from Carroll to me with wide eyes.

"It's just Two-Bit, actually," I wheezed through clinched teeth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again with chapter number two! Hope y'all are enjoying this so far! Leave a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own it, I'm not making any money off of it.

I cleared my throat in an attempt to break the tension that had quickly settled over the room. Turns out I probably shouldn't have done that because once I started I couldn't stop.

I was doubled over, my arms wrapped around my chest, hacking my brains out. This did nothing for my poor head, I mean I really can't catch a break today.

I knew something was very wrong when I tasted a coppery liquid in my mouth. I've had enough busted lips to know what blood tastes like, that was blood in my mouth. Dread filled me as I came to the conclusion that one of my ribs must have pierced a lung.

"-Two-Bit?" I look up, only catching my name out of what ever it was Carroll had said.

Still coughing, I turned my face away and held my fisted hand to my mouth till the worst of the coughing stopped.

In my doubled over position on the couch I heard Michael explain to Carroll how he had found me in the alley. I slowly moved my hand away, hoping they weren't paying attention as I saw the blood on my hand. It wasn't very much, just enough for me to worry about.

"Is that blood!?" 

I looked up at Michael quickly with wide eyes, "What?" I asked in a high pitched, hoarse voice.

"Are you coughing up blood?" He repeated. Not waiting for an answer he turned back toward Carroll, who was looking a little green, "where's mom? He needs help."

"She's not home yet, her shift just ended so she should be here soon. But we need to take him to a hospital!" Carroll exclaimed.

"I ain't going to no hospital," I rasped as I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, hoping to relieve some of the pain as I sat hunched over on the green and red plaid couch.

"Why not?" Carroll asked with an owlish look.

"Don't like 'em, don't need 'em, too expensive," I explained through clinched teeth. "Just get me some pain killers or something and I'll be out of your way."

I really wanted out of here, not only was I in pain and weak, but I was in pain and weak in front of strangers! Well okay, they weren't total strangers, they where my dad and my brother. But I didn't know them any more then I knew the hoods who jumped me.

"Absolutely not!" I flinched and groaned through clinched teeth as Carroll shouted. What is it with people shouting in my ear today?

Completely oblivious to my discomfort, Carroll continued.

"Your going to set right here until Vivian or I say otherwise! Your in no condition to be out there by yourself!"

"I've had worse and done just fine by myself," I state defensively, my pounding head making it hard to concentrate on the "conversation" we were having.

Seeing my discomfort, Michael stepped in. Thank you, Michael!

"Dad I don't really think he's up for a yelling match right now," he said, putting a hand on Carroll's shoulder.

Carroll looked startled, as if he just realized he had raised his voice. I rolled my eyes, quite a stupid move on my part I as soon figured out when this aggravated my poor, aching head and caused things to start spinning around.

I clutched my stomach and looked around frantically.

"Keith, what's wrong?" The suddenly concerned Carroll asked.

"Bathroom," I grunted as I pushed myself into a standing position, swaying drunkenly, letting the use of my real name slide for the time being.

"Over here," Michael took my arm and led me quickly down the hallway, I stumbled after him. He ushered me into a small bathroom and I was quickly on my knees in front of the toilet dry heaving, as I had already emptied my stomach of all it's contents in the alley. 

I wrapped one arm around my torso, my ribs protesting every move I made, and clutched the toilet with my other hand. 

I felt something cold and wet pressed against the back of my neck and looked up long enough to see Michael standing over me with a washcloth.

After a few agonizing minutes I was finally able to lean back, panting shallowly, against the bathtub beside the toilet. 

Michael pressed the washcloth to my forehead and offered me a glass of water, which I accepted and drank readily. 

"Thanks," I rasped before closing my eyes and resting my head against the tub.

"How is he?" I heard Carroll as from the doorway.

"Not so good, I don't think, he took a pretty bad beating from what I can tell," Michael answered with a sigh.

Just then I heard someone open the door.

"Carroll, Michael? Is everything okay? The door was unlocked." I heard a feminine voice ask as the sound of high heels clanked down the hallway.

"We're in here Vivian, come quick," Carroll called. The heels sped up.

Opening my eyes I saw Vivian rush up to Carroll and grasp his arm.

"What is it? Is Michael o-" she stopped short as she laid eyes on me. "Who is this, what's he doing here and why isn't he is at a hospital?" She demanded as she let go of Carroll and stepped past Michael, kneeling down in front of me.

"Vivian, this is my son, Two-Bit. Remember I told you about meeting him a few months ago?" Carroll said a little nervously.

"Yes I remember," was all she said as she took the washcloth from my head and started dabbing it at a cut on my chin that I hadn't even noticed.

Filching slightly, I watched her lazily from my half closed gray eyes. I was really wiped out, I don't think I've ever been so tired in my whole life. 

She had on a fancy dark gray nurses uniform - not scrubs but an actual uniform - her hair was jet black, done up in what I think was called a French twist and her eyes an icy blue that reminded me of Darry's, only her's were much softer.

"I found him in an alley, he had been beaten pretty badly. I tried to talk him into going to the hospital but he wouldn't do it, so I figured here would be the next best place so you could take a look at him," Michael explained. "He was coughing up blood earlier and seems really unbalanced and he's gotten sick to his stomach twice."

Vivian gave me a worried look before standing and turning to Carroll and Michael.

"We need to get him someplace more comfortable. Help him to the guest bedroom," she directed with an authoritative voice. She then quickly walked out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

Michael helped me stand up, I stood hunched over to relieve some of the pain in my ribs, one arm wrapped around my chest and the other painfully over the kids shoulder. 

Michael bore most of my weight as we awkwardly hobbled out of the bathroom and past Carroll. He led me further down the hall, away from the living room, and into a small, cozy bedroom, where he helped me ease onto the twin sized bed with a light blue comforter.

Vivian walked into the room carrying a black bag, which she set on the foot of the bed. She then moved closer to me and put a pillow between me and the headboard for me to lean back on.

"Take off your jacket and your shirt," she directed.

"What?!" There's no way I was taking off my shirt for some woman I didn't know just for her to look at a few bruised ribs, okay probably a little more then just bruised, but oh well.

"Take off. The shirt," she commanded more firmly, her soft eyes hardened and became much more serious.

I gulped but did a she said, wincing and biting back a groan as I lifted my Micky Mouse shirt over my head.

A collective gasp swept through my "audience" as they got a good look at my black and blue ribs. I'll admit, even I was a bit shocked at how bruised they were. But hey, they looked like they felt. 

The bruises were mostly on my left side and my back from where I had tried to stay curled in a ball to protect my front, though there were a few dark bruises on the front of my chest where someone had managed to get in a few hits, and some scattered over my shoulders.

"Who did this to you?" Carroll asked, anger and - was that a hint of concern?- evident in his voice.

"I don't know, just some hoods," I said with a shrug, which caused me to hiss as it aggravated my bruised and battered body.

"Probably some of those Brumly boys, that gang has been jumping a lot of people around here lately," Carroll said lowly.

"No, it wasn't any of the Brumly's."

"How do you know that? I though you said you didn't know who jumped you."

"It wasn't any of the Brumly's because I know all of them a-" I was cut off by Carroll.

"What do you mean you know the Brumly Gang?!" He asked with a shocked look, "their a bunch of no good hoods!"

"Watch what you say about hoods," I said tensely as I shot him a dirty look. I really didn't want to fight right then, my head was pounding and my whole body ached, not to mention I was starting to get tired.

Carroll took a step back, several looks crossed his face: disgust, shame, anger, a hint of fear, and finally, mistrust.

I brushed it off as my eyelids were getting heavy. I gingerly leaned back against the pillow, I closed them just for a moment.

"Sit back up, I have to look at your back." I looked up to see Vivian standing over me with a stethoscope in her hand.

Deciding it wasn't worth the fight, I leaned forward with a groan, placing my head in my hands and propping my elbows on my knees.

I let out a sharp gasp when the cold metal touched my bare back.

"Sorry," Vivian offered with little sympathy, I got the feeling that she didn't like me too much, "just breath as deeply as you can," she instructed as she moved the stethoscope around to listen to my breathing.

I tried my best to do what she said, but as soon as I took that deep, painful breath I erupted into a coughing fit.

It subsided quicker then the last one and Vivian handed me a cloth to wipe my mouth. 

Michael looked at his mother worriedly as the white napkin came away with a splotch of blood on it.

"He doesn't have a pierced lung, it's just chest trauma, usually caused by a hard fall or extensive beating, the bleeding and coughing will stop in a few days." Vivian continued to poke and prod at my ribs and looking at my head, asking me some questions and then she finally wrapped my chest tightly with a white bandage, put a bandage around my head and cleaned the few cuts that scattered my face.

"He's got two broken ribs, three cracked and most of them bruised, and a concussion, other then that just a little scraped up. Nothing that won't heal in a few weeks, although I would recommend you went to a hospital," Vivian said to me, Carroll and Michael, who stood at the foot of the bed.

I just have her one of my best crocked little grins and shook my head.

"Thanks for fixing me up, I'll get out of your hair now," I said as I struggled to put my shirt back on, finally giving up and deciding to just ware my leather jacket.

"And just where do you think you'll go?" Asked Carroll, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Home," I said simply, without looking up.

"How are you going to get there?"

"The bus," 

"And walk from the bus stop to your house all by yourself in that condition? I think not. Is there anyone I can call to come get you?"

Call someone to pick me up, now there's an idea. But who to call? Not Ma, that definitely was not an option. Not Sarah, she would have to take the bus to get here and there's no way she could keep this from Ma, plus I wasn't so sure I wanted her around Carroll yet. Ponyboy would have to take the bus too, and Darry would kill me if he found out I had Pony come several towns over to get me. Tim was out of the question considering last nights poker game. 

I looked toward the clock on the bedside table, 5:00, Soda and Steve wouldn't be off for another hour, but surely Darry is off work by now.

"Yeah, Darrel Curtis, he'll come get me."

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always welcome, thanks for taking the time to read the first chapter! Updates should be coming along soon, I plan to post a chapter every time I finish writing one, that way I'll stay ahead of the game, I've already gotten several chapters ready!
> 
> Stay tuned for more!  
> -BeOkay


End file.
